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A smooth, even pour for a man resembling the type of drunkard who would ring his lips around the bottle in desperation. At this point, the glass was merely a formality to be held in good company. William was no such company. Just this morning he scrubbed his knuckles against a pair of drawers until his skin threatened to split and ruin his entire labor. The cracks he greased and the article of clothing he returned to the lieutenant with a deferential shift of his shoulders for William knew himself.
But what an honor to stand at the captain's side and pour him another glass. He made certain to hold steady while a hand reached to grope him.
"Will Mr Jopson be returning from Erebus soon, sir?"
With a grunt, the bottle slid from his sure grip to be secured in a trembling one. Crozier returned to his sloshing meditation and William dismissed himself with a sharp nod. A better man would make certain the captain knew where to aim his piss in his drunken stupor. Adjusting his trousers William remembered his place.